Hope, in a Cursed Era
by Eliza-Pop
Summary: Events have been unfolding for a long time, and Uther finds himself watching for a ray of hope through the misery he has inflicted. When he finds that hope things begin to look up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **

Hi there, this is a one shot for now, just an interesting twist on the whole story that I had absolutely no choice but to write. I hope you guys like it, would love some feedback, I apologise for any grammatical errors as I don't have a beta reader.

This starts in the first episode, though if I extend it to a two shot or something resembling a multi chapter fic in the future it will speed through other episodes, rather than devoting a chapter to each episode. I felt that was needed to explain the story.

Eliza-Pop

**I don't own Merlin, though I wish I did!**

Uther felt despair whenever he looked out upon the crowds gathering for an execution. Not that anyone could see it, and not that it wasn't his fault. Today was no different to any other. He stood commanding and condemning, looking down upon someone found guilt of sorcery. He hated himself. He hated that he could do nothing about it. He had never had a problem with Magic, even now, after 20 years of a curse he could not resent sorcery as much as everyone believed he did.

As the charges of sorcery were read condemning the poor man to death his heart went out to the woman, Mary Collins, who mourned the loss of her son. He understood why she was now threatening him and his son. He could do nothing to stop anything. All he could do was watch in through his own eyes at the monstrosities the curse made his body do.

As he gave in trying to struggle against his actions he began to consider trying to sleep and let the curse get on with things, but something caught his eye, someone in the crowd. But it couldn't be, it could never be. Yet he looked so much like him. His old friend Balinor, standing there in the crowd. No, he's far too young. Uther resigned himself to the fact it had been wishful thinking. His thoughts sank back into his depression as his unending curse continued destroying his kingdom.

* * *

><p>During the celebrations for his Arthurs birthday he noticed the boy from the courtyard again and how he was stood next to Gaius. He was now almost certain that this boy must be related to Balinor. He wished he could talk to him, but the curse would never allow him to do this. As he tried to fight off self pity he reflected on how he had gotten into his mess. It all started before Arthur had even been conceived. One of the other Kingdoms had been trying to invade Camelot and schemed for the most effective way to weaken the King.<p>

They started by causing his dearest Igraine to miscarry her first child, Gaius had told them it would have been a daughter, a daughter who they mourned the loss of heavily. Then they made her infertile, hoping that the grief of not being able to produce an heir would destroy them. Then when Uther and Igraine managed to get through it and keep Camelot strong they resorted to more drastic measures.

They had gathered together 100 of their strongest sorcerers, and sacrificed many of their prisoners to fuel the curse they placed on him. It was a curse which gave him little to no control over his actions, forcing him to make bad decision after bad decision. It first manifested itself when his beloved wife suggested talking to Nimueh about the possibilities of using magic to aid conception. To this he agreed, he could not control it, but whenever he was given the choice to back down he lost control of himself and found that he had agreed no matter what actually happened.

It had been a small Kingdom that had succeeded at their treachery, but during his wife's pregnancy they were overthrown by another, having spent too much energy on Camelot's borders leaving them defenceless on their others. They had succeeded at creating a tyrant who had shaken his own kingdom to the core. It was almost a shame that they had not been able to take advantage of the havoc they created, the citizens would probably have felt a lot safer for the past 20 years.

And of course after his wife died and his son was born and the war on magic was declared he spent less time in control. The more sorcerers he killed, the more who would attack, providing him the opportunity for more and more terrible decisions. He was particularly ashamed of how the curse had driven one of his closest advisors into exile. Balinor had begin to suspect Uther was not himself, but after tricking him into helping capture and imprison the dragon he had ceased to question what was wrong and ran. Uther could only watch on as his friend escaped in the night, and he could only listen to himself as the orders to hunt down and destroy were barked across the castle for all to hear.

The last time he had any control over himself was when Arthur turned four. He was at the beginning of a very impressionable age, where anything that he learned would influence everything that he could ever become. So in raising his son he had no say, the curse made every possible bad decision. So Arthur was raised spoiled and arrogant, hating the very thing that bought him into the world. Worse still, his son was raised to not think for himself, or have the confidence in his own opinion to do so at all.

During the earlier months before the purge Gaius had figured out what happened. They could never talk about it now, or acknowledge that he knew because Uther was not in control. He relied heavily on Gaius to help mould Arthur into something better.

Uther allowed himself to be returned to the present day as the Lady Helen began to sing, he always found himself calmer during her music. Except this time something was off, everyone was falling asleep, including his body. Somehow he managed to remain alert long enough to hear someone moving. But like everyone else he eventually lost consciousness.

When he woke he saw the sorceress from earlier, Mary Collins sprawled on the floor under a fallen chandelier. As he looked at her with the greatest sorrow he silently begged for her to kill him. He knew this would not be the case, she was to tear the only thing that bought light to his days out of his life.

Arthur.

He would be left truly alone, yet he could not blame her. He knew her hurt, he had suffered it with his unborn daughter and the later loss of his beloved wife. Within the short space of time that she was moving to throw a knife towards his son he readily accepted the pain and torment that she would inflict and he forgave her.

Uther felt the time slowing down, he was not sure what was going on. His attention drew back to the boy next to Gaius, he felt time slow as he saw golden eyes flash without incantation and he could only watch gratefully as his son was saved by the perfect image of a friend from his past.

There was a time in his childhood where Uther had been fascinated by the prophecies of the old religion. He craved knowledge of the future, and revelled in the mere thought that someone might see what is to happen long before they fall into place. He lived for tales of great Kings, powerful sorcery, warlocks and creatures; most of all the beauty that was magic. He had become quite the expert in the details, his favourite had been on the once and future King and he was almost certain if these prophecies played out he would recognise them.

For the first time in years he felt as though he may have a say over what he did. He thought of the raw power that this boy showed so willingly to save his son; taking this knowledge he felt pride at the realisation that his son would unite all Albion. With that pride he kept hold of his self control to long enough to reward this boy and help set destiny on the right path.

He hired his son a new manservant, proud to have seen the day that Emrys arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been many years since King Uther had last held any control. He often wished he could talk to Gaius directly about his curse, though it could never be. Gaius would have to be killed afterwards because it would be yet another poor decision to add to his treacherous tally. He was no longer a man, just a hollow echo floating in the bitterness of a weakening curse.

He assumed his curse had finally run its course, to his citizens he was now a madman lost in his age and pain. He did not understand why his son still loved him, why he still cared. He was growing to be a better man than Uther was ever allowed to be. The maid who cared for him was kind enough, more than kind when all things were considered. He called for the death of her father, accused her or sorcery and took it upon himself to ruin any shred of happiness she might have had with his son.

Well the curse had done that- yet in reality he and the curse were one and the same now; as the curse died slowly then so did his body. His true mind did not know how to be in control any more so the best he could do was to sit, listen to the world as his son saw it and let the sweet Gwen spoon feed him mushed apples and porridge.

One day it occurred to him his time was near. His existence on this mortal plane was not going to last much longer. Then inexplicably, though he could still feel the slightest dregs of his curse fighting him it no longer had the power of complete control. That night he made it to Arthurs birthday feast and he knew that this was Destinies reward to him. So he did the one thing he was never able to do in his cursed life, he doted on his son neither to manipulate nor to keep him in line, but to make him feel loved and to know that his father was truly proud.

When the evening came he knew this was his last night. This was how it was meant to be. He only wished Morgana had succeeded at dragging him from this world earlier but this regret would soon be forgotten. Destiny, it seems had one last plan for him. He was to sacrifice his life to save his greatest achievement and it was something he could not be happier to do.

Yet the pain he felt when Gaius was trying to heal him, trying to keep him pinned to this realm was one of the truest kinds. He suspected Gaius was aware his curse was dying and that he hoped for the return of an old friend.

Then there was Merlin, Balinor's boy. Uther knew he had magic, he had known the entire time. The mad King was truly grateful his son had been given this kindness to bring him into adulthood when his childhood had been filled with failed expectations. He was originally disappointed when Arthur had found out what had happened to his Mother, so desperate to end the curse that he couldn't bear to think what may have happened had he finally been released. When he mused upon it in years to come he was grateful for the actions of his old friend's child, the thought of his son casting the final blow unbearable. His Daughter, Morgana who had been so wronged by him in her birth and the duration of her life deserved that honour.

So when the time came and his Beloved Igraine's brother, Agravaine wrapped another curse around his neck on behalf of his illegitimate daughter he smiled inside. He was dying to save his son by the hands of his daughter, the perfect balance for the life he had been forced to lead.

**A/N**

Not very sure when I posted the first chapter of this other than I was still at uni... and I've not been at Uni for a very long time (at least 6 months). For anyone still following this and who reviewed- Thank you, this is for you.

Unbeta-ed

Disclaimer- I do not own the characters of the fandoms in which I write sadly.

Will be posting one more chapter of this in the next few weeks to get it finished. That and the other stories I've done. Got a few more plot bunnies hopping around so i need to clear some space for them


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